


McCoy, Heal Thyself

by pherryt



Series: Star Trek Bingo [4]
Category: Star Trek
Genre: Addiction, Angst, Drug Abuse, Explosion, Grumpy!Bones, Hurt!Jim, Hurt/Comfort, Intervention, M/M, Multi, Triad - Freeform, grumpier than normal, the weight of reponsabilities
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-28 10:01:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16721226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pherryt/pseuds/pherryt
Summary: Leonard was a doctor. He knew how to take care of himself, dammit. Besides, he didn't want to worry Jim or Spock. They had a lot on their plates too.





	McCoy, Heal Thyself

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hearts_0f_kyber (rw_eaden)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rw_eaden/gifts).



> First off, let me preface this with "WRITING SPOCK IS HARD!"  
> Also, I've never written McSpirK  
> Also, also, endings are too. this fought me. It really fought me. 
> 
> i had a very clear picture of how this would go when i got to this bingo squared (McCoy/Kirk/Spock, Addiction) and then about 2.5 k in it started FIGHTING. it didn't want to give me the resolution. it was the first bingo square i started out of the three rosemoonweaver called out, but it is the fourth being posted.
> 
> I hope you like it.

It was Spock who noticed first, of course, but he was swayed by Leonard’s use of logic _not_ to bother the captain about it.

And none of it was a lie, per se. Every word Leonard used had been exactly true and he knew exactly how to appeal to Spock. The three of them had worked together for too long for Leonard _not_ to pick up a few tricks on how to deal with the First Officer. Add the fact that the three of them were now a thing and, well, Leonard had insider knowledge. Now he could argue on Spock’s level and even win a few.

The first defense had been simple: Jim. Now was not the time to be worrying Jim, not when they were playing chicken with an unknown alien species that was currently taking potshots at them. The Enterprise was banged up – and lord did Jim love this ship, second only to Scotty (the two of them had been seen moping and commiserating throughout the ship) – and there’d been causalities.

Way too many causalities.

And of _course_ Jim took each of those deaths on his conscience, giving him yet one more thing to worry about. So Leonard had argued hard, pointing out that taking away one of Jim’s most relied upon crutches might not be the best idea to keep their captain in peek mental and emotional condition.

And as both First Officer and Chief Medical Officer – in addition to being Jim’s boyfriends – they had a responsibility to make sure that he stayed in as top form as was possible for a man who kept throwing himself into danger without a second thought.

The second defense had been much harder but Leonard had pulled it off and was feeling a very strange mixture of immensely proud of himself for doing so, immeasurably guilty for pulling one over Spock (and, in a sense, Jim too), as well as deeply disappointed that Spock hadn’t pushed harder.

Didn’t he mean anything to Spock and Jim? They were Leonard’s whole world.

No, the second defense had been simply the fact that Leonard was a doctor. He knew damn well what he was doing and anyway, there were no real risks in the short term. Which this was. It was entirely short term, he’d informed Spock. Besides that, they’d lost too many of the crew due to death or incapacitation over the past few days. There was literally no one left to replace him should Spock speak up and get Leonard sidelined.

Just till the end of whatever the hell this was. Then he’d stop, he’d get some rest, and everything would be fine again.

Spock had believed him and respected his wishes and his expertise, and a part of Leonard wished he hadn’t, even as he readied the next dose in his hypospray. He rubbed at his arm for a second with a frown. Hyposprays shouldn’t hurt but, _dammit_ , he could swear there was a phantom pain in his bicep.

Never mind that now. More important things were going on, such as the follow up surgery with Chekov.

Shaking his head, Leonard stashed the hypospray safely away in his drawer and followed Nurse Chapel to the surgery room where the young boy was already lying, pale and knocked out.

*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*

Jim noticed next, and he was not so easily swayed.

“I’m fine,” Leonard protested for what had to be the tenth time as Jim followed him around sickbay like a little lost puppydog.

“You’re _not_ fine,” Jim said. “When was the last time you ate? Slept? I don’t think you’ve even set foot back in our quarters since this whole mess started!”

“Don’t know if it escaped your notice,” Leonard bit out, “But we’re a bit swamped in here.”

“Like the rest of us aren’t?” Jim’s voice rose incredulously before he tamped it down, a quick look around to make sure nobody had noticed his lapse. “Bones, you’re scaring me. You look like death warmed over. Tell me you haven’t been hurt in any of the attacks?”

Leonard's face softened as he gazed at Jim, his golden boy, feeling the ever-present warmth of love bubbling up inside him. “I’m fine, Jim. Not a scratch on me, I promise,” he said, caressing Jim’s cheek. There was stubble there, a few days growth making very good headway. Leonard wasn’t the only one running himself ragged around here and if he could soothe at least one of Jim’s worries, then he’d happy.

Jim left sickbay and Leonard’s heart nearly went with him. God, but he hoped this situation was resolved soon. But to allay Jim’s worries, Leonard made sure to put in appearance that night in their quarters.

Nobody was even there.

He didn’t think he’d missed a memo about a meeting with the senior officers but… maybe? He was just so damn tired. But when he checked with Uhura, she’d told him no. Spock was embroiled in something at his station and Jim had disappeared below decks a few hours back and was getting his hands dirty helping with the repairs.

Well, in that case, if no one was going to miss him anyway, Leonard was going back to Sickbay. There was way too much to do.

He beelined for his office as soon as the sickbay doors opened and with another careful look around, he pulled out his hypospray, checked the dosage and furtively injected it before going on his rounds. It didn’t seem nearly as effective as the last few doses, he realized, and it was harder and harder to keep his focus.

He’d have to fix that.

Good thing he was a doctor and knew what he was doing.

*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*

A week later and there was _still_ too much to do.

Leonard skipped meals unless someone brought him food and he’d caught himself dozing in his chair much too often. Looking around carefully, Leonard reached into his drawer, pulled out his preloaded hypospray and administered it.

It didn’t take long for the drug to take affect and he was bright-eyed and bushytailed within seconds. Looked like upping the dosage was counteracting his bodies natural immunities just as planned. There was no way he wanted to fall asleep in surgery again.

Starfleet, in its infinite wisdom, had sent a bunch of raw recruits when the Enterprise finally docked in at a starbase for repairs. The first of them had arrived yesterday and Leonard couldn’t believe how idiotic some of them were.

Only five minutes ago he’d caught one giving the wrong medication to another ensign. It was harmless to a human, but deadly to Andorians. After reading him the riot act, he’d stomped off to his office and wished he could have slammed the door shut behind him.

It wasn’t nearly as satisfying or as final hearing the doors woosh closed.

He paced the office, the low-key headache he’d been battling for days making itself known once more. The door chimed and he ignored it. It chimed again.

And again.

And again.

Dammit, what did a man need to do to get five minutes of _peace and quiet_ around here?

Leonard growled out a ‘come’ and the door slid open to reveal his head nurse. She strode in far enough to let the door close behind her and then the office was immediately swamped with an uneasy, tense silence.

"What?" Leonard snapped as the weight of Christine’s disapproving gaze fell on him.

"Dr. McCoy, I wanted to talk to you about your behavior lately. It seems more erratic than usual and you’re scaring the new ensigns -"

Leonard scoffed. "I’m always irritable, Chapel. Damn infants. What’s Starfleet thinking anyway sending out such half trained, incompetent -" he floundered as he tried to find an appropriate word.

"You have your grumpy days, we're all well aware but not like this. You have _never_ been like this before. In fact, until recently, you’ve been especially happy since you, Mister Spock and the captain..." she paused... "Oh my... Leonard, are you all right? Did the three of you have a fight?"

"What?” Leonard blinked at Christine’s sudden shift from disapproving to concerned. “No! I’m just a bit tired is all. A little pick me up and I’ll be right as rain."

She frowned at him uncertainly. "If you’re tired, why don’t you take a nap?" 

"I’m on shift darling," he drawled. If only ii were Spock or Jim here arguing for Leonard to take better care of himself. Obviously, he didn’t matter to them as much as he’d thought.

"I’m aware, but you been here since well before that,” she pointed out. “We could make up one of the biobeds in the back and put up a privacy screen for you. That way you’d still be on hand if we need you and you could get some obviously much needed rest."

"Christine, I’m fine. Besides, what sort if an example would that set?"

"Fine," She sighed. She left and he rubbed at his forehead. The headache developing between his eyes had gotten much worse and he reflexively reached for his desk and the hypospray inside.

He just had to make it through his shift.

*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*

Of course, it wasn’t as simple as that.

Only thirty minutes to go, and the ship had rocked and alarms had begun blaring.

The sickbay turned into a chaotic but well-ordered machine, preparing for any type of emergency they could think of, off duty medical personnel racing to report to sickbay and other first aid stations.

Leonard stalked over to a com unit, calling up to the bridge. “What in blazes is going on? I thought were still in dock for repairs?” God, he hated space.

“We’re not sure yet. There was some sort of explosion down in engineering.” The words chilled Leonard down to the bone despite being delivered calmly by Uhura.

Hadn’t Jim mentioned he’d be helping Scotty with repairs?

Oh god…

“Jim –” he choked out.

“Jim will be fine, doctor,” Spock said through the com. “And if he is not, we all know your expertise is more than enough to help him.”

“Well that’s not very reassuring!” Leonard snapped out before backing away from the com to get control of himself. Yelling at one of his boyfriends because he was worried about the other would not do anyone good.

And if it was Jim, he needed to make sure he was in tip top shape.

Glancing at his office, he spared a moment to rush inside and grab for the ever-present hypo.

Tip top shape. Jim deserved the best. They all did, but Leonard couldn’t help the part of him that _needed_ to make sure Jim was okay.

He didn’t think he could survive if he lost either Jim or Spock.

*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*

Leonard slumped, hunched over in his chair beside the biobed. Jim had not been the only surgery necessary after the accident but damned if Leonard would trust Jim’s life in the hands of anyone else.

But now he stared at the pale face, waiting for Jim to wake. A presence – unmistakable as anyone other than Spock, even without looking – came to a stop beside him.

They stayed there in the relative silence of a much calmer sickbay than it had been mere hours before, beeps and hums ever present as they remained unmoving, unspeaking. Leonard’s face was resting on his hands, his fingers obscuring the bottom half of his face and his tightly pressed lips.

Spock broke the silence and Leonard closed his eyes against the words. “Leonard, I am uncertain what to say just now to reassure you that has not already been said.”

“Aren’t you worried in the slightest?” Leonard bit out.

“Worrying does not change the situation,” Spock answered.

Leonard fumed.

He knew it wasn’t Spock’s way. He  _knew_ that Spock felt things more than most people even imagined, but could not permit himself to show it. He knew, deep down, Spock was just as worried about Jim as he was. But _dammit_! He wanted Spock to rail against the unfairness of it all, to cry on his shoulder – he wanted Spock to need him the way Leonard needed Spock and Jim.

He was sure losing either of them would make his world implode. He should probably be used to the idea, with the way they both – but Jim in particular – flirted with danger on a daily basis, but he wasn’t and he hated it.

No, he didn’t like it, but he sure as hell was gonna do his goddamn best to make sure whatever they got themselves into, they survived it.

“Jim will pull through,” Leonard finally grunted.

“Of course he will. He had you taking care of him. I know of few better in all the fleet who could have risen to the occasion,” Spock said calmly.

Before he turned to leave – with the captain out of commission, Spock had things to take care of, Leonard was sure - he lightly brushed his hand over Leonard’s shoulder. It was quick – someone else might have missed it – but it was the reassurance Leonard needed that Spock  _cared_.

*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*

One thing after another, emergency after emergency and mission after mission piled up and before Leonard knew it, nearly a month had passed. Everyone seemed to accept the new, grumpier McCoy, except for Jim and Spock and Christine – the three people to whom he was closest – who knew that the usual grumpiness was a front and that this… _this_ was something else.

They cornered him in his own office, the three of them cutting off his escape before he even realized it was happening. Caught off guard, he slowly pushed the drawer with the hypo shut. It had its dose all ready to go but he’d been interrupted before he could take it and he didn’t want them to know it was there.

From the looks of it, it was too late. Leonard was not surrounded by idiots after all. Even if he sometimes wondered if they’d been dropped on their heads a few too many time (Christine was, by and far, the least likely to run into danger on a regular basis).

Christine gave Jim and Spock a firm nod. “I’ll make sure the three of you remain undisturbed. I’ve already asked Uhura to reroute all calls for Doctor McCoy to Dr. M’Benga.”

“Thank you, Christine,” Jim said.

The door closed shut behind her with an ominous _woosh_.

“Bones, what’s going on?” Jim asked softly.

“What do you mean?” Leonard said stubbornly.

“Don’t play dumb with us, you know that won’t fly,” Jim said. “You’ve been pulling away from us, you’ve been snapping at  _everyone_ , Spock and I can’t remember the last time we saw you in our quarters for more than an hour or two at a time and Christine says your showing signs of addiction.”

“I had thought you were as well, but I am certainly no doctor, as you are quite fond of pointing out, so I consulted Nurse Chapel as she is closest to you of your staff, and very discrete,” Spock said evenly. “Leonard, you said you would stop.”

Leonard’s stomach twisted at the odd, plaintive tone in Spock’s voice. He’d driven Spock to that, to showing emotion when he’d rather not. And normally, while it may have been something Leonard prided himself on, at cracking that stoic Vulcan exterior, this time he only felt guilty as hell.

It wasn’t nearly as funny as confounding Spock with inexplicable human behavior, or as pleasant as some of the softer moments between the three of them as they lay in bed together – especially after a highly enjoyable bit of fun.

This wasn’t that and somehow, even this small display was enough to put Leonard on edge and disappointed in himself. More than disappointed.

“I did. I – I was…” Leonard looked away, unable to meet their eyes. He crossed his arms over himself protectively. Suddenly, all he _really_ wanted was for the both of them to wrap him in their arms, to whisper their reassurance and their “I love you” ‘s into his ear. He wanted to snuggle up with them under warm blankets and forget the outside world and all its inherent problems existed… just for a little while.

“I didn’t lie,” he choked out suddenly. “It just… one thing led to another… and things… just… got out of hand…”

He turned his back on them, unwilling to see their faith in him fall, as it surely must. It was nothing less than he deserved. He couldn’t even do his job right without resorting to drugs. They wouldn’t be the first to pull away from him because of his own dumbassery.

His breathing hitched at the first touch to his arm. The touch trailed down to grasp at his elbow and turn him back to face Jim and Spock. Before Leonard knew it, he’d been wrapped in their arms as he’d been so desperately wishing for.

“I tried… I did, I promise. But every time…” Leonard’s breath caught and choked, his words ragged as they pulled him in close. “Every time there was just something… I couldn’t dare… Jim, you were hurt. I couldn’t have lived with myself if I didn’t do everything I possibly could.”

“Bones, you already do too much,” Jim whispered. “You can’t shoulder everything yourself.”

“Neither can you, but you try,” Leonard grumped, sniffling only a little. “Hell, you both do. I just… wanted to make things a little easier on you both.”

“Yeah, well, pot calling kettle,” Jim noted, surprising a small, wet laugh out of Leonard.

They stood that way for long moments, his office cutting off the rest of the ship, the rest of the world – no, Spock and Jim _were_ his world – with Leonard slowly melting into their arms despite the shame that still filled him.

Jim and Spock had so many responsibilities – they didn’t just save lives, they were doing their best to keep those lives from being in danger to begin with. Their decisions had impact on not just this ship, but on planets and interspecies relations throughout the galaxy and here Leonard couldn’t even keep it together for the sake of 400 crew members.

“Leonard, please,” Spock said gently, evenly. “No one can do better than their best and yet you always seem to give it, even in increasingly difficult situations and despite all odds. There is no shame to be had for needing to ask for help, on any of our parts. It is only logical to reach out before we drown. That is what we are here for. The three of us are stronger together then we are apart, as it ever has been, so shall it always be.”

“What Spock said,” Jim said firmly. “Honestly, we _all_ deserve a break.  We’ve been running around ragged for too long.”

A hand brushed at his hair, a thumb rubbed along his cheek and he bit at his lip, closing his eyes. They weren’t wrong. Leonard felt like he was worn thin and barely there. Their arms were warm, grounding him, making him feel real again.

“Spock and I have arranged a leave to help you get through this, all right?”

“You can’t! What about the ship?” Leonard pulled away to stare at them disbelievingly.

“Nothing is more important than you, Leonard,” Jim said softly. “And if you stay aboard before we nip it in the bud, we all know another emergency will happen, and then another. We can all use this, frankly. We won’t be very effective if we’re burnt out. None of us. So we’re not going to let that happen.”

“Jim has managed to coerce Starfleet into recalling us towards the nearest starbase. The Enterprise is being retrofitted with the newest in engine upgrades. Since that will take some time, the entire crew will also be going on leave. You won’t have anyone to worry about while we are gone,” Spock said.

Jim chuckled. “Now, c’mon, Spock. Bones wouldn’t be Bones if he weren’t worrying about _some_ body.”

Spock acknowledged the point with a small nod. “Indeed. We will likely be his next targets.”

“I can live with that,” Jim said. “As long as we get to worry about him in return.”

Leonard choked again and this time his arms squirmed loose so he could hug his boyfriends gratefully. He held tight, holding back the tears that threatened to fall. His knees were weak with relief but Jim and Spock held him up easily.

Just as he had said to Spock when this all started, that they were Jim’s supports, so, too, were they his.

“I’m so stupid,” he muttered into Jim’s shirt, his fingers clenching on Spock’s, trying to drag him closer.

“Maybe,” Jim conceded. “but for the right reasons. It’s something we’re all guilty of.”

Leonard chuckled as Spock shifted and he all but felt the affronted “I am _not_ stupid” look that Spock must have been shooting Jim.

“Now, c’mon,” Jim pulled away, and the hug fell apart till the three of them were barely touching. Leonard felt the loss keenly, till a couple of fingers tugged at one hand gently, and his other was engulfed in Jim’s. “We’re going back to our quarters. Leave, for you, has already officially started and Spock and I are taking turns on shift duty till we pull into dock, which won’t be long now. I’m not gonna kid myself that this’ll be easy for you, or for any of us, but one of us will be with you at all times for support, until we can _both_ be with you.”

“You _will_ get through this, Leonard,” Spock intoned. “I have utmost faith in your stubbornness in that regard.”

Leonard cleared his throat self-consciously and nodded. “Well, all right then.”

He took a long look at his desk, at the bottom corner drawer where he knew his hypo and the drug resided and nearly shuddered. Already he could feel a part of him saying he needed it, but – with a deep breath – Leonard allowed Jim and Spock to guide him out of his office and through sickbay. In public, their hands fell away – though their relationship was no secret - but their bodies remained close.

Taking comfort in that, Leonard looked forward to regaining his equilibrium and to spending time with his loved ones again. Despite sharing the same quarters, Leonard had missed them greatly. He was just grateful that they didn’t resent what he had done, good reasons or not, and were there for him, like they always were.

He had once thought his life had ended when he signed on for space but in reality, it had only just begun. Jim and Spock had changed all that for him.

God, he loved them.

“We love you as well, Leonard,” Spock said.

“You readin’ my mind, Spock?” Leonard drawled, eying him suspiciously.

“There is no need, doctor, when you wear your heart on your sleeve,” Spock said. “To use a phrase you are fond of.”

“He’s right,” Jim said, nodding. “About both things. We do both love you and you _do_ wear your heart on your sleeve. It’s one of your endearing qualities.”

Leonard flushed.

“This ain’t gonna be easy, you know,” he said, deflecting.

“We know,” Jim assured. “Don’t worry, Chapel already briefed us on what to expect as you went through the withdrawal and we already plan to have her just a call away if we need her.”

“Do not worry, Leonard. We were very thorough in our research and I also have all the latest in statistical journals and methods downloaded to my pad,” Spock said.

“Of course you do,” Leonard laughed, genuinely laughed for the first time in… in how long? Too long. But he stared at the earnest and caring faces of his boyfriends and knew they were right. All three of them could be stubborn jackasses and while usually that meant their relationship was filled with shenanigans and petty arguments along with all the good things that came with it, in this case, it proved to be a bonus.

With their help, he _could_ get past this.

He _would._

They would settle for nothing less.


End file.
